Synthetic Organic
by ZoharSkarth
Summary: With the world saved whats left for a band of mutant bird kids to do? In Fang's mind its 'To not get captured by the School' But what happens when just that occurs? Can Max, Fang, and the gang endure the experiments and their after effects? FAX


Fang POV

We were flying just above Iowa, having passed through Wisconsin from Canada. As a whole the flock was going farther and putting more miles in than ever. Max the indestructible was destined to save the world. And I for one was all for that. You know, having a world and stuff. Plus I'd follow her to Hell, and had many times in the past. Based of course on your definition of "Hell". Mine is a lab with whitecoats, torturous experiments, vivisections, dog crates, and the synthetic smell of 'science'.

We had helped Jeb with that expedition of sorts about global warming to Antarctica, but then we never heard from him again. Never trust a whitecoat. I did however feel terrible for Max. It had to bad to actually know your parents and to have your Dad constantly helping people try to off you.

I subconsciously drew nearer to Max at the head of the flock's flying formation. Which oddly enough was where I had taken up flying recently. Not in the back where I was before, for tactical purposes. I only admitted it to myself, but I was undeniably drawn to Max. A dull, dark, dusty, black moth lured closer to the brilliant light she seemed to expel.

My black contour feathers brushed her golden brown ones. I hoped she didn't notice. What would she think? Me the darkness and night forever paled in comparison to her glory. Her blonde brown hair whipped in the wind, the sun's light making it sheen like the great ball of hydrogen itself. The rays caressed her features, softening her appearance. She was always so far away. Far out of my reach, my league. The universe sometimes could have filled the void between us.

But then there were times when it seemed as if we shared some sort of brain wave. Like wee understood each other. It happened every once in a while. If only she'd let me in, past all of her defenses, past her walls, past her façade of Max the unconquerable. Just like it happened now as I caught the slight nod of her head downwards towards the countryside below.

We swooped lower in lazy circles, memorizing the lay of the land with our eyes. Except for Iggy who had the Gasman describe it all in vivid detail for him. We landed running and slowed to a stop in the middle of a cornfield in the middle of Godforsaken Iowa. What's an Iowa you might ask. it's a little patch of dirt that grows stuff and is really bland, had few trees for sleeping in, and little ground cover to hide six mutant bird kids. Kids? Were we really still kids? Max, Iggy and I were something around 17, so were we still kids? Troublesome teenagers? Awkward adolescents? Full fledged adults, out of the nest and fully independent? I couldn't quite decide. And to tell the truth, I really didn't care. We were what we were. Age, personality, mutant DNA, ya know the average stuff. The camp was set up in near silence. Had I mentioned our nonstop flight from oh-Canada?

"Fang, can you put up the tents? Gasman, stay and help him. Nudge, Iggy, Angel, we're off to liberate some food for the mutant bird freaks of America foundation." Max said with a wave of her hand and a voice of authority. How could anyone resist the Maxocracy?

I pulled out the tents and started setting them up. We had three. Three because only Max, Iggy, and I were capable of carrying the blastedly heavy things during our long extended flights. They were just too heavy for the younger and smaller members of the flock. However the Gasman had surely sprouted up another few inches from last spring.

But we only needed three two-person tents. Six Avian Americans, six spots in the tents. So far I had 'roomed' with the Iggster, Max sharing with Nudge, and Angel and the Gasman were brother and sister and shared a tent. Total went from tent to tent, bur was usually found with Angel. Though he had been complaining that he wanted to be in the 'Man's Tent'. Maybe I should feel proud that the tent I share with the snurgly, snoring Iggy has been dubbed 'The Man's Tent'; but I'm not. I'm more worried about if we'll have to get another tent. It is true that the Gasman is getting older and can't forever live with his sister. But if we get another tent, that will leave one person out. And Max would undoubtedly sacrafice herself and sleep alone. Now don't get me wrong here, I'm Mr.Solitude-and-Stoic, and Iggy's snores annoy the Hell out of me, but we're flock people. I wouldn't want to be alone every night. I would, dare I even think it, get lonely. Just a little bit. Because as Mr.Dark-silent-shadow I can't be feeling lonely a lot. Its not allowed. The flock would collapse if I, Fang, acted unFanglike. Not only that but I'm positive the World would implode, and Max was trying so hard to save it and all; it would hardly seem fair to ruin her winning streak now.

I patted the Gasman's head. He hated having to stay and help me set up tents. So of course he giving me the silent treatmetn. Which is A-ok with me, I invented it after all.

The barely audible sound of rustling feathers came to me as I saw Max, Iggy, Angel, and Naudge touch down. Max glided effortlessly over the ground, skimming it as if she could defy gravity itself. Watch out physics, Maximum Ride is tough as nails and doesn't take orders.

"Who wants…" Max paused reading the label of the first can, "spam?"

Nudge stuck out her tongue. I sighed and raised my hand, meat is meat right? No matter the low quality and the majority of the 'meat' being salt. We dug in.

"Max where are we?" Gazzy broke his grumpy silence.

"Iowa." Max answered nonchalantly with the breezy air that comes with practiced leadership.

"Iowa? Where's that? I know its south of Wisconsin, I don't think we've been here before… Did you guys see all the cows and corn? I didn't know so many cows existed. Will they all be eaten? Do you think Fang can carry one? I bet they'd make good pets…" Nudge rambled, I frowned at the idea of flying with cows and Total growled at the idea of another pet.

Max held up a hand and the cascading babble that was Nudge was paused… for the moment. "Iowa is right in the very middle of the U.S. Yeah, its got a lot of farms. No, I don't think even Fang can carry a cow. And even if he could there will be no more pets." Max said. All obey the Max decrees, I thought, long live the Maxacrocy.

Iggy's blind eyes looked around at the corn, "This stuff is really rough. Like sand paper after awhile. And the leaves disrupt the sounds. Plus the land is so flat we can be easily spotted. I don't like it here."

I myself was comfortable. But then again, that was me. I waited for the rest of the flock's input I closed my eyes and tried to relax the muscles in my wings.

"It's only one night." Nudge whined and nearly continued, but Angel cut her off with an, "I'm tired."

I opened my eyes to look at Max. Her brown eyes met mine, I nodded subtly. She coughed then began in full, "Seeing the distance we've already traveled, and taking into accordance the state of the flock, and with us only staying one night I've decided we'll stay."

Did I already say long live the Maxocracy?

Iggy nodded glumly, "I don't know Max… something seems off. We haven't been attacked in ages."

"Maybe they all passed their expiration dates?" Nudge offered, quickly snapping at the chance to talk.

"No, the Erasers are gone. We already know the School is brewing worse monsters as we speak." Max said.

Nudge was uncharacteristically silent. Angle and the Gasman just looked at Max. Iggy shook his head, "I dunno I don't like it."


End file.
